The Lamp burns sure — within –
Tho’ Serfs — supply the Oil –
It matters not the busy Wick –
At her phosphoric toil!
The Slave — forgets — to fill –
The Lamp — burns golden — on –
Unconscious that the oil is out –
As that the Slave — is gone.

A daily poem from the complete works of Emily Dickinson.
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The Lamp burns sure — within –
Tho’ Serfs — supply the Oil –
It matters not the busy Wick –
At her phosphoric toil!
The Slave — forgets — to fill –
The Lamp — burns golden — on –
Unconscious that the oil is out –
As that the Slave — is gone.
Tags: burns, busy, fill, forget, forgets, golden, gone, lamp, oil, phosphoric, serfs, supply, sure, toil, unconscious, wick, within
Low at my problem bending,
Another problem comes –
Larger than mine — Serener –
Involving statelier sums.
I check my busy pencil,
My figures file away.
Wherefore, my baffled fingers
They perplexity?
Tags: baffled, bending, busy, figures, fingers, low, pencil, perplexity, problem, serener, statelier, sums